Friday, March 9, 2012

Vanilla Flavoured Gas.

**When we last saw our heroine, she was at the dentist's office, cowering on the floor, surrounded by a team of judgemental hygienists. She had let this happen. She had ruined her daughter's perfect mouth. Sobbing and hanging her head, she accepted the blame that she knew to be hers. **

Okay. No. It wasn't like that. The hygienist, very politely, pointed out the cavity, and on the way out we made an appointment to bring her back and have it filled.

"They'll be putting her out with gas for the filling," the receptionist said cheerfully, as she handed me the appointment card. "Oh. Okay," I mumbled absently, as I stuffed the card in my purse and hustled the kids out the door.

How could this have happened? We don't let the kids have candy, except for special occasions, and even then, nothing gummy that might get stuck between tiny teeth. A cavity? They don't drink pop. APPLE JUICE. Okay, Kee isn't allowed to have apple juice anymore. That's the likely culprit. How could I have not noticed? But we water it down! And she only has it once or twice a day. Oh my god, the guilt. We brush her teeth every day... wait a second. Not we.

I swung around and pointed an accusing finger at my husband. "YOU!""What?"

I fumed all the way home. I'm not saying that I was being entirely reasonable, but my husband is responsible for three things in our house*: taking out the garbage, doing bath time and brushing teeth.

I couldn't help thinking that maybe he hadn't concentrated properly while brushing her teeth. Maybe he just wasn't being thorough. Had he even been brushing those back molars?

A couple of hours later, I was still brooding over it. They were going to have to drill into my baby's tooth. They were going to pry her tiny jaw open and stick a needle in her face. They were going to gas her. Great. A brand new thing to be worried about.

I managed to put it out of my mind for most of the next month. Except of course, when I was brushing her teeth and that tiny black spot taunted me with my sub par parenting.

Leading up to her appointment, we talked with her about what was going to happen. So, she was not worried. I of course, was. Remember how I get swimmy when the needles come out? I kind of thought I might barf when I saw the gas mask. And they might have to give her a needle anyway. So I might barf and then pass out and fall in it.

On dentist day, Kee was pretty excited about going and getting her "cabbity" fixed. Husband took the day off to drive us down there so we wouldn't have to go on the subway (you know, just in case someone threw up or something).

When we got there, the first thing we saw when we walked into the office was the tiny mask. Much less menacing than those needles. I swear to god, they were as big as my head.

It was so small. Kind of cute, even.

They set her up in the chair, watching Sesame Street, with her blanket in her hand. They covered her little face with the mask. They said it was a pretty small cavity, so they wouldn't need to give her a needle -- sorry, "sleepy juice"**-- and they got to work.

Seeing this was probably the worst part.

They don't use giant metal clamps to keep your mouth open anymore; they have soft rubber wedge thingies that they slide in between your jaws. They also don't use ugly dirt coloured metal to fill the cavity anymore; they use lovely tooth coloured stuff, so you don't look like you've got stuff stuck in your teeth for the rest of your life. Even the drill is quieter. They had vanilla flavoured gas for frack's sake! That's practically aromatherapy.

She was done in five minutes.

I worried on and off, about various random horrible things, for a month and it was over in five minutes. Which was a relief... but you know...all that worrying...

I listened as the dentist explained that the cavity had been caused by a malformation of enamel on the biting surface. So, not inadequate brushing? Nope. Genetic.

They also praised me for bringing her in. Apparently a lot of people don't listen to the dentist about things like filling baby teeth, because they figure they're just going to fall out.***

So. Not only can I still blame the cavity on my husband (he's got terrible teeth, it's totally on him), and not blame myself for not seeing it earlier, but I am also super smart and responsible.

In short; I am the best mother ever.

*You know, other than working at some "job" place somewhere to earn money and support us all; but technically, that's not "in our house." (Thank you, Husband!)**The term the dentist used. Apparently, this is what they say instead of "big honking needle full of novocaine" now.Pretty sure this is not a real medical term.***Leaving it to grow can lead to things like abscesses, spacing issues and having to pull whole teeth out at a later date. Which can be really painful, gross and/or expensive. So don't do that.

6 comments:

Same here...same here. I have twins and they both had the most horrible cavities at the age of two! They accused me of giving bottles all night with juice or worse (I exclusively breastfed, they don't know what a bottle is). I have an older son with perfect teeth, so it didn't make sense to me that all of a sudden our dental hygiene was the culprit. They both had to undergo full anesthesia at 2,5 years old and they both lost a tooth. I don't feel guilty about it and I'm pretty sure their teeth were way too fragile, because the decay went FAST! All three have pretty deep molars so we had to preventively coat the new ones so that nothing bad happen anymore. There is only so much parents can do. I know how you felt with anesthesia, it is the worst thing for a parent. Especially all these papers about risk to sign.I wish you all strong healthy teeth for the future.Have a nice dayVéronique

Even though I know it's hereditary, I can't help feeling like I should have been able to prevent it. It's the whole mum thing - I'll probably feel like I should have been able to prevent anything bad that ever happens to them.

My husband has teeth brushing duty as well, and sure enough he is to blame for our five year olds cavity. My poor hubby also has slight buck teeth, which is where my daughter gets hers. (Now my husband will be envisioned as a Giant Rabbit, but I swear he is not)I always joke about that at the dentist's office, to the hygienists. And then the unthinkable happened. My husband actually came with me to an appt., so when he smiled at the hygienists, I could see them look straight at his little hint of 'buckness' and one actually gave out an 'Ahhhhh, Ohhhh'. Hopefully he did not catch on.

Glad she did o.k. Doctors/Dentist's can be the hardest part sometimes. I will do a standing O with Stephanie ;)

*grin* well, we all go to the dentist at the same time, so he already knows that I blame him for everything. (And you're right, I am now picturing a giant rabbit.) I'm actually glad they've said it's hereditary, it means I don't have to add another thing to my to do list; he's still on tooth brushing duty.

She was much braver than I was about the whole thing. Then again, she was watching Sesame Street, and I was watching my baby's face being drilled so I guess that makes sense.

This is Me:

I am a stay at home mum, a writer, and an artist. I've got three amazing little girls. Beege is 10, Keebee is 8, and Bean joined us in February. They keep me on my toes and don't give me time for much else. They call me Mummy, but most people call me Jessica. Oh, Husband is around here somewhere too. (He's pretty awesome.)